


If their once-graceful swimming is now clumsy and uncoordinated

by arazuta



Series: Brother's Blood [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Parent Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-17 13:04:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8145017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arazuta/pseuds/arazuta
Summary: A week after their father's funeral, Hanzo attempts to get through to Genji. My friend told me that when a fish gets sick, the rest of the group attacks and eats it.





	

The picking of the bones is fresh in Hanzo’s mind. The slow, sobering process of placing their father piece by piece into the urn. Shimada Castle is quiet for a while, but not for long enough. Forty-nine days is standard grieving time, but enemies do not wait for the mourning period to end. Enemies do not wait for the weakened to return to their feet. They slit their throats when they have the chance. A week comes and goes and the elders call a meeting.

“Genji needs to be reigned in,” Is the topic of the hour, it seemed. One stern elder clasps his hands together, sitting up straight, staring hard. “The clan is at its most vulnerable. He is still gallivanting around. He brings us dishonor, makes us look foolish and weak.” This has always been a concern. Never more than now. “Handle him.”

“I will.” 

*** 

Arcade games can only occupy so much time. They play through most of them together before Genji decides to cash in the tickets and drag Hanzo back out onto the street, pointless prizes in hand. He looks pleased. He looks tired. The tension high on his shoulders. He hasn’t seemed quite alright since the funeral. Despite this, he smiles, sunny, as he stops at a shop.

“Hungry, brother? My treat.”

They eat dango as they walk back to their garden. The sun touches the skyline with orange and purple. The spring wind shifts through the trees and across the flowers. It’s peaceful and quiet. More quiet than Genji ever is. Hanzo wonders what he’s thinking.

“There will be an important meeting tomorrow,” He says, instead.

“I do not feel much like going,” Genji answers, after a moment, looking at the reflection in the pond.

“You have to,” Hanzo states, avoiding looking at him. Instead he watches how the koi dance around each other.

“Why?” His brows are furrowed.

“The clan is shaken. We need you now.” His voice communicates that he thinks it should be obvious.

“They do not need me.” The emphasis on the last word gives Hanzo pause.

“I do not understand what you mean,” He eventually admits. Mostly because he doesn’t want to think on that train for too long. It leads him to uncomfortable places about his own position in the clan. Genji doesn’t respond for a long minute. He doesn’t answer the question.

“Did you even come to the arcade today to spend time with me or was it to soften me up?” He sounds legitimately hurt by the notion. Hanzo swallows. He doesn’t want to admit that the answer is both. The koi twist under the purple sky.

“The elders believe you need to pick up more responsibilities.”

“The elders are never satisfied with me.”

“They would be if you tried.”

“They would not.” It rings too true. Hanzo clenches his teeth.

“We are in a precarious position.”

“Is that anything new?”

“You know it is different now.”

“This has been coming for years.”

“Why are you being so difficult?” Hanzo snaps, suddenly, teeth bared as he turns towards Genji. Genji doesn’t even flinch.

“Do you remember the day mother died?” His voice is too suddenly tight. Hanzo’s breath catches in his throat. It’s a silly question. Of course he does. The two of them, so small, so unprepared, stumbling across the pooling blood. Suddenly the orange sunlight across the pond looks familiar.

“What does that have to do with it?” He almost spits; he hates himself.

“When mother died, they only kept her ashes in the house for seven days,” He says it quieter than before. “We are going to keep father’s for the full mourning period. They only kept mother’s for seven days.” He clenches his fists. “You and I were not in the house. We did not get to mourn.”

“They were different circumstances,” Hanzo tries, though uncertainty touches his voice. He always hated that, too. That they were denied their right to grieve.

“Ha!” Genji laughs, short and harsh. It startles Hanzo out of his skin. He’s never heard Genji make such a cruel sound. Something in his heart constricts. “It was father’s selfishness and you know it. He had his private anguish and he did not care about us.”

“You should not speak ill of the dead.” His mouth feels like cotton.

“Is there anything else to speak of him?” Such hateful words he says with such sorrow. As though he’s mourning their lack of a proper father more than their father himself.

“He taught us much.”

“I do not want his lessons.”

“He gave us life. He left us his legacy. We owe him our respect, our efforts at _least-”_

“He gave me life and then took every moment of it, does he really need more?”

“You are an heir of this clan as much as I, even if not in name, you have to participate!”

“All the clan does is load us up like pack animals and judge us when we shake under the weight!”

“This is not the time for disobedience!”

“I am so _tired,_ Hanzo-!”

“Why can you not just do this for me?!”

“I cannot stand living for everyone but myself!” Genji’s voice reaches a stilling volume. For a few seconds the only sound is the rustle of leaves. Several koi settle near the bottom of the pond. “This is not the life I want,” He says, soft, pained.

“What do you mean? This is the life we were always meant to have.” He grits his teeth again, overwhelmed, confused. It doesn’t make sense to him that Genji can deny their destiny.

“I am making myself sick! I cannot keep being a part of this.”

“The clan life is in our blood.”

“That is a lie. If it were true I would not itch the way I do after missions.”

“We have seen it often enough, it should not be a problem-”

“I do not want to become the people that killed our mother, Hanzo.” His voice breaks on the words, like he might cry. He is staring at Hanzo hard. The words jar Hanzo deeply. The sky is starting to bleed into darkness. Several emotions flicker across his face, in quick succession, flutters of leaves. Confusion, anger, despair, betrayal, guilt. “We do not know the lives we take. They could be fathers, mothers. How many children have we made know loss?”

“We are Shimadas.” As if that proves anything.

“Being one does not sound like the party it used to.”

“You cannot just shuck this off.”

“I cannot carry on either.”

“The elders will not let you get away with this. This is a foolish decision.”

“I am an expert in making those.”

“You will not listen?” Genji doesn’t answer this question. His stare at the dark pond is a more poignant response than words could be. Hanzo stands for a moment, trying to think of words to convince Genji. There are none. In a fit of frustration, he turns and walks away. 

***

“I cannot get through to him.” Hanzo relays the story to the elders, snaps this, fingers digging into the table that they frequently perch around. Their eyes are all sharp. There is a tension in the air.

It’s broken by whispers as they lean together and talk.

Hanzo is left in the dark. For several minutes there is not a single word said to him.

“Do not leave me out of this,” He snarls at them, when more time has passed. He hates to miss information. They are surprised for a moment. But Hanzo is the new leader.

They tell him to handle Genji. 

And a koi hides itself behind the skimmer.


End file.
